


Read Between the Scars

by Higgystar



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Gen, Kink Meme, mentions of domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:31:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1431988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higgystar/pseuds/Higgystar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from the Kink meme: After Daryl is shot by Andrea, Hershel and Rick patch him up and see his scars. Hershel tries his best to talk to Daryl about it and when that doesn't work he instead talks to Rick about helping Daryl as much as he can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Read Between the Scars

“Hershel! Hershel!” The yelling is making Rick’s throat hoarse but he continues, desperate for the veterinarian to come and help them. He feels sick, his stomach is churning in worry and Daryl’s weight is sagging against his side with each step. Shane’s presence helps, keeping the smaller man up between them and giving Rick the strength he needs to continue. When the front door opens Rick sighs with relief, he and Shane dragging Daryl up and over the porch to follow the older man.

“Good Lord. Is he bit?”

“No.” And Rick is replaying the conversation they first had in his head, remembering holding Carl in his arms and screaming for help. “But he’s wounded, looks like a stab to the side and a bullet graze to the head.” He can feel Andrea’s worry in the air, it’s almost tangible as she runs along behind them, desperate to help the situation she’d had a hand in causing.

“Maggie, get my kit, Beth some towels and water. Follow me, we’ll get him to the second bedroom to get him sewn up.” Hershel is quick on his feet when he needs to be, leading them upstairs and holding the door open so they can get the unconscious man through to the bed. The rest of the group follow them in, Carol asking questions, Andrea apologising with Dale trying to calm her and T-Dog still fidgeting with that doll.

Rick helps Shane lie Daryl on the bed, they try their best to be careful, setting a pillow beneath his head and keeping him on his uninjured side. Daryl groans though he’s still unconscious, eyes flickering behind his lids as he fights through the pain. Hershel moves to get on the edge of the bed, battling his way through the wave of people surrounding the bed and calling for his daughters to hurry up. The noise in the small room is unbearable, bubbling up and over until Rick can barely hear himself think since everyone is worrying so loudly.

Maggie struggles through with Hershel’s kit and as soon as he has the scissors in his hand the vet is cutting through the fabric of Daryl’s vest to get to the injury. When he pauses in his work Rick leans closer, trying to see what the problem was, stomach dropping to his feet at the thought of Daryl being bit.

“All right that’s enough!” Hershel doesn’t shout but he raises his voice to a loud enough level that it cuts through the babble of noise from the group. The silence is heavy, all eyes turning to the vet as he leans over Daryl with a forced calm in his eyes. “I need everyone to get out so I can have some space to work. You’re not helping by worrying so loudly, it doesn’t look too serious so please give us some room.” Rick stands, brushing his sweaty palms on his thighs as he tried to stop the adrenaline rush from going to his head. “Not you.”

Pausing Rick meets Hershel’s eyes before turning to Shane, the two of them sharing a nod of understanding as his partner ushers everyone else out of the room and away. Rick takes the water from Beth as she comes to the door and moves to set it on the nightstand, soaking the rag and wringing it out before speaking. “I’m not that good of a nurse.”

Hershel sighs, quietly cutting through the remains of Daryl’s vest before gesturing for Rick to help him remove the fabric by rolling Daryl’s weight off of it. “I didn’t need a nurse Rick, I just didn’t need the rest of them seeing this.”

When Hershel gestures to Daryl Rick opens his mouth to question further but freezes when he looks down to study the injured man. Rick doesn’t gasp, he doesn’t turn away, he just grits his teeth and finds himself breathing a little heavier at the sight that greets him. Daryl’s skin is a mix of colours that shouldn’t be there. Rick can see pale white in the raised scars on his back, a deep purple hue colours injuries that never healed cleanly and he can see where the skin never set into its rightful place on a few. The mottled and puckered skin of burns litter over his skin, some clearly from cigarettes and others from something Rick can’t work out. He feels sick looking at the marks, but it would be disrespectful to look away from something that Daryl has to carry with him everyday of his life.

Sitting beside the bed Rick breathes out heavily through his nose, trying to calm the police officer that wants answers, that wants justice for this man before him. Digging his fingers into the damp rag he gives himself a few moments to clear his head before reaching up to begin pressing the rag to Daryl’s head to stem the bleeding from the bullet graze. “Thank you.” He keeps his voice low, not wanting to disturb Daryl and not really wanting to have a loud conversation about this. “You won’t hear it from him, that’s just how he is. But I know he’d appreciate you doing that for him.”

Hershel nods, gentle fingers moving over the scars, tracing them and checking them over, making sure that there were no other injuries he had to check over. When everything checks out clear Rick watches as Hershel moves to clean the main wound and see how deep it was. “It’s fine Rick, I don’t think anyone saw, they were too busy looking at all the blood.” Rick is grateful for that, he knew Daryl was rather private about his personal life. Where everyone else would talk about their lives before all this, Daryl tended to keep quiet and focus on the here and now. “It does explain a lot though.”

Rick nods, moving to continue mopping at Daryl’s face, cleaning his mouth free of blood which he didn’t want to question, and the dirt that seemed to be caked on permanently. Beneath him Daryl stirs a little, shifting against the pillow and giving a small noise of pain. “Merle?” He mutters, voice small and barely there, fingers clenching at the sheets as his body winces at Hershel’s probing.

“Merle’s not here Daryl, it’s Rick.” He replies, rinsing the rag of blood and dirt and resoaking it to dab at the man’s forehead. Daryl gives a small noise of discomfort before falling silent again, not stirring as Hershel continues working on the wound before he can stitch it up.

The guilt that churns in Rick’s stomach makes him feel queasy, and he wonders if he’s going to manage to get every member of the Dixon family injured in some way. “Who’s Merle?” Hershel asks, getting the forceps inside the wound to remove a large splinter that had sheared off the arrow. Daryl’s body trembles a little in response and Rick moves to hold him still as he replies.

“Daryl’s older brother.”

“The owner of all the medication?” Hershel asks, dropping the splinter into a bowl before rinsing his fingers to give a final feel through of both sides of the wound tract. When Rick nods in reply he can see the assumption already settle in the vet’s mind, the understanding that Merle Dixon was certainly no angel. “Did he get bit?”

Thinking back to that roof in Atlanta Rick’s stomach churns again, remembering how he’d acted out of instinct and in turn managed to save five lives and condemn one. “We don’t know.” Silence hangs in the air and Rick begins answering the unasked question as Hershel moves to inspect the bullet graze now the major wound is ready to be sewn up. “I first met the group in Atlanta, we got trapped on the roof of a department store and some coked up guy was firing at walkers down on the street. When he started beating on T-Dog and yelling out racist slurs I took it upon myself to diffuse the situation by cuffing Merle to a pipe. We left him there to cool off whilst we looked for a way out, things happened, we had to leave quick and in the rush and panic to get out, Merle got left behind.”

The guilt burns inside of him, and the shame of having forgotten about Merle due to being reunited with his family, Shane and then the search for the CDC and Sophia’s disappearance. It was shameful, but despite being faced with Merle’s little brother everyday he barely ever thought about what he’d done. “Rick, it’s not your fault, you did what you had to at the time.”

“We went back.” He continues, helping Hershel tend to Daryl’s wounds and holding the injured man’s hair back so Hershel could scrub out the dirt from the wound. “Four of us. We went back for our gun bag and for Merle.” Pausing for a moment he swallows down the anger at himself, determined to let Hershel know as much about Daryl’s current situation as well as he could. “All we found were the handcuffs, a bloody saw and Merle’s hand.”

Hershel is silent for a while, continuing his work and gently moving Rick’s hand to hold a gauze to Daryl’s head wound whilst he moved to thread a needle ready to start on the stitches. “And Daryl followed you.”

“Honestly I don’t think he knew what else to do.” Rick admits, letting out a sigh and feeling a sense of relief, as if this was confession and Hershel was absolving him of his sins. It’s stupid, but for whatever reason it’s helping. “So he followed us.”

Daryl groans between them, shifting against the sheets and slowly blinking himself awake. Rick moves into his field of vision, wanting to stop him from being so confused about what’s happening. Hershel settles a clean gauze over the wound in Daryl’s side and holds it in place, the sudden pressure causing Daryl to hiss and flinch in pain. “Damn Doc! You got a shit bedside manner.”

Hershel gives a tight smile before turning to Rick, holding Daryl still as the man closes his eyes due to obvious dizziness. “Hold still or you’ll make it worse. Rick I need you to go find a map of the area, Maggie should have one. When you get back Daryl can show you what area he managed to find the doll in before he gets some rest.”

“I’ll be back in a sec, Daryl try to be a good patient.”

Rick gets a huff in reply before Daryl winces again, reclining against the bed sheets. He closes the door behind himself, wanting to give them their privacy and he figures it was the right thing to do when he hears Hershel begin to ask questions. Leaving the vet to it he goes to find Maggie, taking the time to get the map and reassure the rest of the group and Hershel’s family that Daryl was just fine, if a little banged up. It takes a while to calm Andrea down and make her stop apologising, explaining that they all made mistakes and Daryl was conscious and not mad at her. Checking in on Carl he presses a kiss to Lori’s cheek and Carl’s forehead before heading back upstairs.

By the time he gets back he’s been gone for nearly twenty minutes and from the sound of Daryl’s raised voice through the door he can already feel it’s been too long for the injured man.

“I told you old man, everyone’s got their scars. It ain’t nothing so stop asking!”

Rick has the decency to knock before entering anyway, giving Daryl the time to try and not look flustered and for Hershel to sigh out his frustrations. Moving back to his seat Rick sets the maps on the bed, easy enough for Daryl to see and explain his position to them both. It worries Rick that Daryl takes the stitches so easily with no anaesthetic, only wincing when Hershel hits a tender spot, but barely making any noise of pain. The injured man doesn’t complain too much and though Rick can feel the challenge in his eyes whenever Rick takes too long glancing over his wounded body, Daryl makes no mention of the scars and neither does Daryl.

When Hershel is done stitching him up Rick helps Daryl sit up enough to wrap the bandages around his waist, though he tries not to place his supporting palm over any scars, he finds it impossible and he can feel Daryl tense as the ridged scar digs into his hand. They still don’t mention it and when they settle Daryl back on the bed with Hershel’s instructions to rest for a while, Rick can see that Daryl isn’t fully relaxed until his back is covered with the sheets. “Let me fucking sleep then, jees I don’t need no damned nurses annoying me. Get out and leave me be.”

Hershel leads Rick through to the bathroom, the two over them taking the time to rinse all the medical supplies and sterilise them before cleaning their hands and getting all the blood from beneath their nails. Through the entire time Rick can only think about Daryl and what a close call today had been and wondering just how many other close calls there had been for the other man. He’d been on plenty of domestic abuse call outs, he’d seen wives and husbands beaten by their other halves, he’d seen children too frightened to be around adults and plenty of teens that had become imitations of their abusive parents.

“He wouldn’t tell me anything.” Hershel explains, scrubbing at his arms before rinsing them clean once more. “I take it you didn’t know?”

“No.” Rick shakes his head before admitting the small inklings he’d had about Daryl. “I mean I had my suspicions, but I never imagined it would be anything like that.”

Hershel nods, a man of carefully planned words and wisdom that Rick was beginning to depend on more and more each day. When the man does speak he makes sure to pay attention. “I may be a vet and understand animals better than humans, but there are some behaviours that are present in most species and Rick I’ve got to say Daryl shows plenty of signs of previous abuse.”

“I know that. I just didn’t want to assume and if he didn’t want to talk about it, well you’ve met Daryl.” He shrugs, gesturing to the room the injured man was sleeping in. “You saw how well it went with you asking. I barely know the man, who am I to guess at his past?”

“I understand Rick, I’m not saying he needs a therapist, scars that old mean issues that run even deeper, and he wouldn’t talk anyway. I’m just saying you might want to start listening to him a little closer.”

Watching the older man in confusion Rick runs through Hershel’s words before repeating them to the older man. “You said you know he won’t talk.”

“Rick, you don’t have to open your mouth to speak. When I have a canine patient that growls and barks at me with its tail between its legs and ears pinned back, I don’t think he’s angry, I read between the lines and see that the dog is scared. Now I’m not saying that Daryl is a dog, but humans are similar. People who don’t feel comfortable may not voice it, but they’ll show it.”

Nodding at the analogy rick can understand that, he’d been in multiple situations that weren’t as they seemed at first glance. “So if I take note of his behaviour, it could help?”

“Maybe. I can’t say for sure, but maybe. I noticed right away that he doesn’t like being in large groups or feeling surrounded. He’s tense more around Shane than any of the women. When it comes to confrontation he’s volatile, wanting to keep any dangerous people back with vicious words.” Taking a clean towel Hershel dries his hands before offering the towel to Rick. “It’s all there Rick, you’re an officer of the law, you must have had training for this.”

“I have. Everything’s just been so insane recently that I hadn’t given it much thought. Seeing those scars, knowing just how much he’s been through it makes a lot of his actions make sense.”

“How so?”

“At the quarry. When I told him about Merle, he got upset and as soon as he could be he was aggressive, trying to bring it to a fight, at first I thought he was justifiably mad at me for all but now it seems there was more to it. When Shane had him in a headlock he looked panicked and couldn’t wait to get away and the next time Shane came close to him I saw him flinch. At first I thought it was nothing, but now…”

“Now you know.” Hershel nods, a tight smile on his lips before he claps a hand to Rick’s shoulder, giving him a pat of reassurance. “It’s not something that can be fixed Rick, it’s just a part of who he is now. You just need to learn to listen more and give Daryl the space that he needs to feel comfortable. He’s not broken, he’s just got a different way of thinking compared to us.”

“It would make life easier if he was more a part of the group.” Rick nods, letting everything sink in, trying to remember his training and recall all of the little signs that Daryl had been giving off since he’d known him. “It would be safer for him too.”

“Just let yourself listen to him Rick, he’s telling you everything you need to know about him. Even if you don’t ever learn the details of what happened, you know enough to be able to help Daryl feel comfortable. He may not have his brother anymore, but he still needs a group, no one can survive alone anymore.”

“I’ll do my best.” Rick agrees, sharing a smile with Hershel before they head downstairs, feeling the worry for Daryl subside into knowing he can help in his own way. He’ll never mention the scars to Daryl, not if the other man doesn’t bring it up first, but he’ll try his best to be accommodating of who Daryl was. “He deserves to have someone give him a break after everything he’s been through.” Hershel nods and as he returns to Carl’s room Rick is quick to go over to his still resting son and stroke his fingers through his hair, smiling to Lori and grateful to Hershel and his family for all of their help.

Looked like he’d have to start listening to everyone more than he had been before. 


End file.
